Still The One
by IThoughtMYJokesWereBad
Summary: He hurt her. He left her. But she still loves him, and he loves her. One-shot.


**A/N: I'm just full of firsts this week. First Dramione 'fic/drabble! Enjoy!**

Night is just starting to fall when Hermione arrives home—twilight, she thinks it is called. Her date drops her off at the end of her driveway. Mentally, she notes how he doesn't walk her to the door, nor does he get out and open her car door. That's a strike against him—no chivalry. He hadn't even held the door open for her tonight! But hey, the rest of the date had been okay.

Hermione smiles half-heartedly, waving a small "bye" as she walks up her driveway. Slinging her purse on her shoulder, the brunette heaves a great sigh once the SUV is out of her sight. She still doesn't know if she is going to call him back or not. The date had been cute and nice, but Hermione wasn't sure there was a real connection with this guy.

Despite this, the curly-haired woman walks up to her doorstep, a small smile still playing on her lips and a light skip in her gait. It feels good to be going out again. It feels good to be wanted again. It definitely beats wallowing in her misery at home. But then, Hermione's brown eyes land on the person sat atop the stairs and she freezes. Her smile fades. Her heart lurches. Her mind reels. Why is he here?

"Hermione," he says. His voice is deeper than the witch remembers. His smooth accent is still strong and Hermione starts to melt at just the sound of it.

But she quickly snaps back to reality. "What do you want, Draco?" the young woman's words are harsh and cutting. She remembers times when she used to speak so kindly to him, but those times were long gone.

He tugs at his pale blond hair, resting his head in his hands. Draco turns his grey eyes up at Hermione, but she quickly looks away. The bright witch will not look at those eyes; those eyes will be the undoing of her will. She will be at his mercy if he gets you to look in his eyes. "'Mione, please let me explain." She cringes at the endearing nickname.

"Don't call me that," Hermione instinctively bites back. He hurt her. He left her. He doesn't have any right to talk to her, much less call her pet names.

Draco heaves a sigh, putting his face in his hands. "Please?" he asks, the single word slightly muffled, but the brunette still hears it. Hermione is still debating over her answer when he looks up at her. It's too late, she can't turn her eyes away; he has her locked. Despite Hermione's wishes, she feels her head nod uncertainly, curly hair bouncing around her face.

"I was stupid. So stupid," he starts, grey eyes still locked with brown. Hermione snorts, rolling her eyes. _Boy, isn't that an understatement?_ He tries to hide his flinch. "I shouldn't have left, especially not like that. You deserved better. You _deserve_ better." He runs his fingers through his hair, puffing out a deep breath. "I should have talked to you. I should have stayed." Draco pauses his little speech.

Grey eyes finally release brown ones as Draco looks to the ground. Hermione is pulled out of the trance she had been in. Instantly, the witch goes on the offensive. "Yeah," she sasses, placing a hand on her hip, "you _should've_ stayed. But you didn't; you left me without a word. You left _town_! I had to find that out from Pansy, of all people! _Your ex_ knew you left before me! What the fuck was that, Draco?!" she is fighting to keep from shouting, not wanting to draw her nosy neighbors' attentions. Despite this, all the venom Hermione holds is in her words, hissing at Draco.

He almost seems to cower where he's slumped on her porch as she glares down at him. "Hermione, please," his voice trembles, his eyes still on the concrete beneath him. Hermione has half a mind to ignore him and keep letting all her anger out, but the sound of his voice stops her. He sounds so vulnerable, so weak that she pauses. Draco takes the unsure silence as permission to speak. "I was scared," he admits, pulling at his hair again, which Hermione is starting to notice is a new habit. Before she can start yelling, he speaks again. "I didn't know what I was feeling. I'd never felt that way before. It was completely new to me and so overwhelming. I didn't know what to do. I ran. It was stupid, and I realize that now." He turns his face up to hers again, grey eyes watery and pleading.

"The last two months, I spent my time with my family, thinking. Mum was the one who finally made me see sense." He pauses, seemingly pondering over his next words. "She-she made me realize what I was running from, what I was losing." Draco stands, towering over Hermione now, but his height doesn't intimidate her. In fact, he looks almost pitiful as he gazes down at the young witch. His eyes are still on hers when he talks again. "I love you, 'Mione. I always did and always will."

The man that was once Hermione's everything stands before her, waiting for her response. She doesn't know what to do. He hurt her. _Bad._ But he seems so sincere, so honest. "Draco, I-I don't know what…" he trails off, taking a slight step back for more room to think.

"I know I left you all alone. You told me you loved me, and I freaked. I should have stayed. I know that now. Please, forgive me," he says, and he doesn't make to move toward her. Hermione can't decide if that's a good or bad thing.

Finally, she heaves a sigh. "You really hurt me, Draco," she says, holding up a hand when he tries to interrupt. "I still love you, I really do." His face seems to light up at these words, but she quickly makes her stance clear. "But I can't just let you back in. I know you want everything go back to the way it was; it can't, Draco." His shoulders slump at the witch's words and he seems all the more pitiful; it's an almost unbearable sight. "You're going to have to fight to make this," Hermione gestures between the two of them, "work again."

In seconds, Draco's fire seems to come back—he squares his shoulders and determination seems to glow in his eyes. "I'll do anything," he vows. A small smile graces Hermione's lips. She had missed Draco, so much. "Can I take you out tomorrow?" he asks tentatively, a fear of rejection evident in his tone.

"I'd like that," she says.


End file.
